“What did they put on that bait? Gold? Oncology is three more years and a residency, right?”
“I lost count,” he joked, holding the door to go back outside. “I’ve now done four years undergrad, four years DVM, the rotating internship, then three years in oncology. I’ll be thirty next year and I haven’t actually held a real job.”
“I haven’t either, and I’m twenty-five. Like I said, way ahead of me.”
“What did you do after you finished school?” he asked. “You must have waited before going to grad school.”
“I got my undergrad degree online,” she explained. “And I lived with my parents out in Heber City, which is not too far from Park City. I didn’t work, because…” She gave her armrests a tap. “Mom and Dad didn’t think that was a good idea. Then I found out about this program and…”
“Bucked the odds,” he said, that Alabama accent even sweeter with his smile. “See? I was right about you. Li’l blond Superwoman.”
“Hardly.” But the compliment tickled her right down to the toes she couldn’t feel.
As they sipped their coffee and continued the tour, he asked about her coursework, the student clinics, the kinds of cases they saw. He told her about his oncology residency—how he’d stayed up for forty hours once to help a golden retriever through chemo complications, sure they’d lose him in the middle of the night.
“He made it,” Wade said, eyes soft. “His family sent me a Christmas card with his pawprint.”
“That’s so sweet,” she said, genuinely moved.
“I still have it,” he added. “That’s what makes it all worthwhile, right? The dog that lives, the cat that pulls through. I even treated a ferret with bone cancer. I love it, actually.”
The way he said it—matter-of-fact but full of heart—made her pulse skip.
“I do, too,” she admitted. “I haven’t saved any lives yet, but just the fundamentals are satisfying in this business. And there’s so much to learn!”
“That never stops,” he said as they passed a fenced field where about six dogs were running around like controlled chaos in the cold.
“That’s the therapy pack,” Elise explained. “We take them to children’s hospitals and nursing homes. They’re like four-legged antidepressants.”
“I love that,” he said. “What about the Live Nativity? Where will that be?”
“Right here on the quad on Christmas Eve,” she said. “They’re going to start building the stable next week and I have to make sure all the actors—animals and people—are ready.”
“My guess is the animals will be easier than the people,” he said with a laugh.
“No doubt about it, except for maybe the goats. Oh, and the donkey is a little bit arrogant. I mean, for a donkey.”
“Right? Someone tell him he’s not a horse,” Wade joked.
“We also have a new sheep who might steal the show.”
“What an awesome thing to get to do for Christmas,” he said. “Can I help? Or at least meet the four-legged stars?”
Was he always so infectiously enthusiastic? She adored that about him. With each happy observation or upbeat tone, she felt more at ease. How could she not? He made everything seem like an adventure.
“Of course. They’re in the barn. Come on.” She pivoted in a 180-degree turn that she’d executed a million times. But the move had him slowing his step and looking down at her with an unreadable expression. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing. You’re just…agile and fearless.”
“Few would call me agile,” she said with a dry laugh. “And fearless? I don’t know about that. I’m afraid of a lot of things.”
“Like what?” he asked.
She looked up at him, catching the sun glinting on his dark hair and the gleam in his green eyes.
“Just the usual things…” But right then, she couldn’t imagine a single thing she was afraid of…except falling so hard for this man she might as well wheel herself off a cliff right now.
He leaned a little closer. “I knew it.”
